Discovering Truth
by uncoveredtruths
Summary: She loved him but can she forgive him? We'll soon find out for the used-to-be bestfriends now must fight to the death in the 66th annual Hunger Games.
1. Unforgivable

**I in no way own the hunger games, how ever any original characters, yes, yes I do.**

_A story of a girl and the boy she loves._

I remember the day I met him, we were both new. It was our first day in third year school and we were both friendless, or well I was. He fit in right away. After a couple of days he was one of the most popular boys in class. I still remained friendless, me being only seven around all these eight and nine year old kids, well lets just say I wasn't the attention grabber he was. I guess I was too shy. I was ignored by everyone, except him. He made me feel good, he was my friend. I remember a boy was making fun of me and soon after that pushed me down to the ground. He saw it and quickly ran to me, hugged me, and said it'd be alright. He chased the bully down, pushed him, and made sure he didn't mess with me again, and he didn't. I remember feeling a lot that day and one of those feelings I couldn't help but notice, love. He made me love him.

Every day after that I found myself walking home with him, I remember one day he was rushing to me after class, asking if I had anything to do, when I said no, he'd grab my hand and rush me off to the woods. We weren't supposed to be in them, they were dangerous, and if caught we could be publicly punished. But I felt safe with him and surely would take a beating to be with him, my only friend. I remember wishing that he felt the same way.

* * *

><p>As time flew by so did he. It was the summer of our sixth year, the year I lost him. Before that, we were inseparable I'd always be with him and him with me, he was my best friend, if only I could say the same for him. It was the first day of the month, the day we planned to go to the woods, the day we always went to the woods. I remember waiting for him at the gate for hours only for him to never show. It was another month till I saw him next, I was waiting at the gate again, and I thought he'd never show but when he finally did it was with a group of friends. I don't remember being happy to see them, but him, yes. He had that effect on me. It happened so quickly he pushed me to the ground, I began to cry as soon as I realized what was happening, that, that day I'd lose him. He was in tears as he said, "Skye, I'm not your friend, I never was." I remember one of his friends coming from behind him, stopping when he was in front of me, he kicked me hard. I was silent, in pain, but silent. When he saw the look on my face, he looked disgusted; he knew what he was doing, even if he didn't want to. It was him doing it, and that's what hurt the most. He made it public; they made him humiliate me, just so they'd accept him.<p>

I remember blacking out; when I awoke I was in my bed. My parents were asking me what had happened, I refused to tell them. Even if he wasn't my friend, I still loved him, and still wanted to protect them, for if they knew who, they'd surely find a way to punish him. They'd press charges and he may have in fact spent time in a teen enforcement camp, the place where they sent the juvenile delinquents who broke the law, and needed training. I don't think I could have ever put him through that, so I didn't. When they finally realized I'd never tell, they stopped asking.

I never was the same after that.

School grew dull, and before I knew it my seventh, eighth, and ninth years were over. Only a couple more years till I could leave what I now looked at as a hell hole.

* * *

><p>It was the summer after tenth when it happened; I was 14, and him 16. It was the day of the reaping. I had never been called, and compared to anyone from my district; district nine, the chances of being called were slim to none. My name was only supposed to be in the bowl three times, but was in it five. I had to sign up for Tessera that year. My family was starving the extra grain would do us good and it did.<p>

The reaping would start at two pm; anyone who didn't show would be punished. Unless you were sick, that was okay. Even then they'd send peacekeepers to check up on you, to see if you really were sick. To see if you were lying. And if you were, I think you'd wish to be reaped for the punishment was far worse than any game could give.

I walked alone to the reaping, told my parents I'd meet them there. After everyone has been checked in and was in their proper places, they'd start.

Edward Flowers walked on stage, he seemed extra bubbly this year. I couldn't help but laughing at his attire. What was it with the Capitol freaks? With their odd clothes and weird high-pitched voices; I don't think I could ever live in a place where contact with these kinds of people would be every day.

After the Mayor read and explained the Treaty of Treason - a treaty that was formed after the thirteen districts were defeated, this treaty provided new laws and peace and established the Hunger Games as punishment for the uprising. - Edward came to take his place. With a smile, he happily shouted "happy hunger games!" As he always did before the reading of the names.

I stared in suspense as he drew the first name, read it, and then spoke it, "Skyelar Lynn."

It took me a while to register what had really happened, that I had just been reaped into a game. That I had just been chosen to die. I walked slowly on to the stage. I remember hearing my mothers' screams and my fathers' sobs. They knew what was happening; they knew they'd lose their daughter. After a long while, I was on stage, and being greeted by Edward, after finally taking knowledge to the fact that I'd give him no answers, he changed his focus, he'd now choose the boy.

After another long wait, he once again picked the name, read it, and finally spoke. "Dean Spark."

I showed no emotion for the boy as he silently walked to the stage, tripping on his own shoelaces as he made his way up the stage steps. He was in tears, but not for long.

"Any volunteers?" Edward says into the microphone.

A second hasn't even passed and there it is a hand that has shot up into the air. It's owner's identity, hidden.

"Well well, that was fast. If you would please make your way up." Edward says.

The boy walks slowly to stage, his face sending a jolt down my spine. I don't know what I want to do. Beg for him to go back, to take his recent action away, or to hug him. But I can't, not because I don't want to, but because I can't forgive him. Even now, even with knowing that his death and my death are just around the corner, I can't. I can't forgive the boy I love.

It is Edward's voice that breaks my thought, "And young man, what is your name?"

He stands quiet for a second and then says coldly, "Aaron Clark." He then makes his way to the pedestal that sits beside the very one I am standing on. He stares at me coldly, I can't read his face. _What happened to my best friend?_ I think. I look back at him, confused. I make sure to give him no emotion. He doesn't deserve it, what he put me through... I will never forget.

When asked to shake his hand, I refuse. Bad move, but I can't touch him. I can't.

Edward coughs and ends the show, "Alrighty then! Happy Hunger Games!" He says as he turns to escort me and Aaron off stage, but before doing so, as if set off by instinct quickly runs back and recites what he had forgotten, the ever so popular phrase, "May the odds be ever in your favor!" happy with himself he walks me and Aaron off stage and into a car. We soon will be at the justice building and soon will have to say our final goodbyes.

My goodbyes are quick and to the point, my mother and father are the only to visit. I hug them and then they go. I don't think I hate them, but I do dislike them, they have given up, and I can't forgive them for that. My parents, my own parents don't believe in me. So why should I?

After the hour given to us to say goodbye is up, we are escorted to a train. I ignore the crowd that has formed for I know they aren't there for me. They're here for him. They all love this boy, they all believe in this boy, the volunteer from nine. They want him alive. They want him to be victor. And for me? Oh sure, I'll come back, but not the way they want him to, I'll come back in a box.

* * *

><p>I've been on a train for an hour now; I've been avoiding him the whole time. And truth be told, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. For so long I lived for him, I loved him. But for what? To be pushed on the ground, to be let go of, to be forgotten? No. He'll remember me; he'll remember me as the girl who died. His counter tribute in the 66th Hunger Games.<p>

Sad thing is, when I look into his eyes I still see the boy who saved me from that bully years ago and took my heart.

I eat in silence and later sleep with the nightmares of what is to come.


	2. Second Chances

So far we've arrived to the Capitol and been rushed straight to our prep teams and stylist.

I'm dressed in a pale yellow skirt made of hay. It's accompanied by a belly button high no sleeve V-neck also made of the same material, as well with a golden skin tight necklace. My feet are bare, but that is okay. I'm used to it. In my district most of us have to run around bare foot time to time, due to the shoe shortages in our district.

I'm standing in front of a mirror that shows my full body, I stare at myself. I think it shows too much, I mean my torso is barely covered and the skirt doesn't even cover half of my thighs. I feel so uncomfortable, but ignore it. If this is what it takes for them to like me, I'll deal with it. Cause if I want to live, I'd need them to.

My stylist scares me, to be honest. He's green in skin and is really flamboyant; he speaks with a raspy voice and is as straight forward as a ruler.

He calls for me; I listen and head for his voice.

"I guess it'll do, but to be honest: I've dressed better Tributes." He says as he examines his work.

I remember him from earlier games, games where his 'better Tributes' died. I smile and softly whisper to him, "and look where your dressing got them."

He pauses and grunts, I feel bad, but it did as I wanted it to, it shut him up.

After twenty minutes of silence, I look up into the mirror. He's doing my hair, but he's also crying. I hit him where it hurt. Not his work, but his Tributes. I feel awful, how must it feel to know you are the last non-game face for them to see? Their last real conversation? Maybe even their last hope? I whip my chair around and look him in the eyes. I reach a hand to his face and caress it in my palm. The touch to his skin is just like mine, just like everyone else. He looks me in the eyes and then quickly away. It is then when I realize what I've been so ignorant to accept. These people, the Capitol citizens. The people who I've hated for so long now... They too have feelings and they too are human.

I stand up and kiss his cheek; I don't dare say a word. I then sit down and turn the chair to the mirror as it was before. He then gets back to my hair, finishing it soon after.

He has fastened it into a perfect ponytail, a single curl that falls down my back. It's breath taking how beautiful it looks. Gold stardust lightly sprinkled throughout it, shining in the light.

He then starts to fix my makeup and it is when he is done that I can see what he has done to me. I stare into the full body mirror I had been looking into just an hour ago. I look so different. The outfit may be against my taste, but what he has done to me, it's amazing. He has made me beautiful.

I thank him quietly, but he says nothing, he's no longer crying, but I can still see the faint marks of the tears that were just there. Oddly enough, he hugs me back. I think he knows that I'm scared, that I don't want to die.

After the hug we leave and soon arrive to the place where I'll be paraded at.

We still have some time before the ceremony actually starts, most spend it talking, but me, I stand quietly. That is until _he _arrives. I avoid eye contact and make small conversation with my prep team. I don't want to speak to him.

It is now time, we are loaded onto a chariot and set off, and the crowd isn't really paying much attention to us that is until he does it. He kisses me, right on the cheek. I'm sent into shock as I feel his lips bring warmth to my cool face. The crowd has taken notice and is now whistling us on. I turn my head to him, he's blushing. I take notice to his costume, he wears the same skirt as me, but that is all. I blush at his bare body. I think he notices, for his face grows redder. I force my eyes off of him.

_No, _I think to myself. But it is too late. I've already been infected by his charm. The crowd is now hooting us on even more than before. They want more. But we refuse to give it.

It is then when the old memories of him push through my mind. I miss him. I miss him a lot. My heart has never really given up on the boy I once called my best friend. It never will. But I can't give in, no matter how much I want to, I can't. It's him or me now. And I don't want it to be me.

The chariot comes to a halt and I find myself forced out of thought.

Snow talks for a while and we are soon after let loose. I leave the building alone and go straight to my room on the ninth floor.

I'm filled with old emotion and the lingering feelings of an old love. Feelings that I've ignored for so long. I don't know what to do. I'd love to die right about now.

There's a knock at the door and it soon opens. It's Edward. He walks to my bed and sits at the feet of it. My face is in a pillow to lighten the sound of my sobs.

"That was quite a show out there."

I grunt.

"Young love, great isn't it?"

I stay silent.

"Talk to him, give him a second chance. For soon it'll be too late." He says softly, I think I can almost hear the care in his voice.

I still give no reply.

I feel him get up and hear the door close behind him.

I sit up and wipe my tears. _What does he know about love? _I think to myself. _What does he know about being late? _He grew up here, where everything is pretty much given to you. He couldn't have had much to worry about.

He knows nothing about me or my feelings.

But I can't help but think that he may actually be right. I did need to talk to Aaron. But not for a "chance," I need to end this once and for all. I must forget the boy that I love.

The bell rings and I know that it's time for dinner. I get up and wash my face. I was hoping to sleep into tomorrow, but it looks like that hope has now come to an end.

I now make my way to the dining room, where I find everyone seated and waiting. I stop. Why wait? Edward forces me to sit. I take the seat beside our mentor, the muscle woman, Jesse Woods. She's dark in skin and has to be the tallest person I've ever seen. I remember watching re-runs of her games. She wasn't a career and won because she was the best survivalist of the group. She was in the 42nd Hunger Games and was reaped at the age of 16, making her now 40 years old. I remember watching her interview; she was quiet, but also fierce. She only spoke when something bothered her. And to be honest, she hasn't changed much in that aspect, at all.

"Move." She says in her hefty voice.

"What?" I ask, a bit confused.

She motions with her eyes to the seat beside Aaron. I at first argue, but later give in. I sit, defeated.

"Why?" I ask, wanting an answer.

She stares at me for a brief second and raises her hand, showing me her fingers. She then makes a peace sign. And begins to speak, "this is you and him." She then crosses both fingers. "You two must work together if either of you want to come home. Most of the tributes are blinded by the blood of the fight. They forget that tributes are reaped in two... It is done like that for a reason. Even if it may not feel like it, you two are a team."

She's making sense; most Victors after her – from our district – have been graced with life due to teamwork. I see the good that could come if I worked with him, but also the bad.

And to be honest the bad outweighs the good, no question.

I shake my head. No. I won't do this.

Jesse grunts and begins to eat her food, "Fine. Die."

Dinner is quiet and over quickly, before I know it I'm back in my room and sound asleep.

I'd need all my strength for training tomorrow.

_Sorry for the wait, I didn't forget you guys; I just didn't have the time – till now – to type this up. Chapters three and four are written and will also soon be up! Comment __and review, please!_


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